A few days ago, I saw the above photograph in my hometown newspaper.

Why oh why, I mused, would anyone stick a slice of pizza under a windshield wiper? Perhaps to free up their hands to search a purse or pocket for an elusive bus pass? As a peace offering to a jilted lover? A practical joke? A drunken mishap? The possibilities are endless.

Everyone has a favorite pizza. Mine is the cheese thin-crust pie served up at Pizzeria Regina in Boston's North End. But any way you slice it (pun intended), leaving a piece of pizza under a windshield wiper is a true act of charity. My kingdom for a hot gooey wedge of Boston's finest.

"Unless you're a pizza, the answer is yes, I can live without you." – Bill Murray

The latest wave of symbols have just been released by Unicode, 37 in all, including (wait for it......), a DISCO BALL EMOJI!

Now that is technological progress I say.

During the 1970's, disco music was all the rage. Who could forget the opening scene of 1977's Saturday Night Fever? John Travolta, strutting down the streets of Brooklyn, paint can swinging to the pulsating beat. Or others, inspired by Travolta's gold chain and white suit, making their way to the newly opened Studio 54, hoping to carve up a dance floor dripping in celebrities. By the end of the decade, disco was still king. Donna Summer topped the charts in 1979 with her trio of hits; "Hot Stuff," "Bad Girls," and "MacArthur Park." The bass notes of each made my boombox quiver in delight.

Disco has endured a lot of shade since its heyday. But I remain a fan. If the mirror ball emoji is back, can the music be far behind?

"A glittering disco ball spins from the ceiling, but the music is something I've never heard, discordant and haunting and insistent, the kind of music that demands you dance." – Candace Bushnell (author of Sex and the City)

Last night I dreamt I was on a gameshow.

The task I was given required me to remove thousands of pieces of gold confetti from the shallow end of a swimming pool. It was both an infuriating, and ultimately, futile assignment. Every time I went to raise my cupped hands from the water, the sparkling flecks would slip through my fingers.

Without dragging Freud into this too much, I suspect I was wrestling with that age old quandary of how best to capture the opportunities given to me. I often feel this way at the beginning of the academic year, when the time ahead is a fresh new page filled with hope and possibility.

Reach out and grab a fistful of whatever comes your way. Life is for living.

"How much I missed, simply because I was afraid of missing it." – Paulo Coelho

For the past two weeks I have walked to and from work each day. That, in of itself, is not unusual. It gives me time to both prepare and unwind from the various activities of the day. My extended strolls provide fodder for sermons, unkink muscles cramped by my desk, and acclimate me to my new neighborhood. Pretty standard stuff.

So why do I feel so different here? The answer? 84.

As in there are 284 days of sunshine each year in Los Angeles. That's 84 more days than my native Boston. Even more if you subtract days categorized as "partly sunny," bringing the total of bright sparkly days in Beantown down to a paltry 98. 186 days less than here in the City of Angels.

Given our planet orbits the sun, it's no wonder light has such a salvific effect.

"Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy." – John Denver

I've never been a big fan of bumper stickers.

After spending tens of thousands of dollars on a car, I just couldn't see how a sticky, silly, or worst yet, snarky comment pasted onto my back bumper was an upgrade.

I fear I hold the minority view on this one. Every day I learn where people sent their kids to college, read proclamations of finding Jesus, and discover the political leanings of my adjacent drivers while stuck in traffic. I'm just not sure I need to know all that.

But this week I came across a bumper sticker that tweaked both my theology and my funny bone.

"What if the Hokey Pokey is what it's all about?"

Perhaps I need to rethink my position.....

“Only a writer would slap a bumper sticker on her car that read, 'Seriously, I'd rather be working'.” ― Richelle E. Goodrich

I learned a lot from my mother.

I was inspired by her fierceness. I watched her insist a place in the working world be available to her, and later, to me. I listened as she disavowed anyone who thought she was "just a woman, ruled by her emotions." I understood the complexities of walking in this world, incarnate in the body of a woman, from my mother.

But it was my father who gave me my confidence. In my father's eyes I saw the reflection of what I could be. It was my father who taught me to celebrate and treasure the ways in which I was not made in his likeness.

With Father's Day just around the corner, I celebrate the man who raised me to be the woman I am.......

"A study of successful women showed they all had one thing in common; fathers who listened to them." – Elinor Lipman, I Can't Complain

Twice yesterday, as I was careening down the twists and turns of Los Angeles' canyon roads, my heart jumped out of my chest when an AMBER alert suddenly blared out of my cell phone.

AMBER is an acronym for America's Missing: Broadcast Emergency Response, named after a nine-year old girl named Amber Hagerman. In 1996 she was kidnapped and later murdered in Arlington, TX, discovered just 5 miles from where she was riding her bike prior to her abduction.

I didn't know any of that until I did a bit of research upon arriving back home. My heart aches for parents who have lost a child to the vagrancies and cruelties life can bring. So this morning, my prayer was for Amber Hagerman.

Still loved. Still missed.

"Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why." – Kurt Vonnegut

My love affair with soup began with Campbell's chicken noodle.

It was what my mother gave me when I was sick, cold, or tired. Ladled into a shallow white bowl, it was served with a sleeve of saltine crackers. A perfect combo.

As I got older I moved on to tomato soup. The texture and thickness was markedly different than the chicken broth in which all those slippery noodles swam. The heat of the rich bisque lingered as it made its way down my throat. Topped off with a toasted tunafish sandwich, it kept my hunger pangs at bay for hours.

Then I fell in love with my mother's homemade minestrone. It would take her hours to compile and prepare the ingredients. When finished, it felt less like a soup and more like a meal, in part because the propensity of pasta and lentils required me to chew.

The best soup I ever had.

"Soup is not the work of one man. It is the result of a constantly refined tradition. There are nearly a thousand years of history in this soup." – Willa Cather

Do all of your passwords seem to expire at the same time? Yeah, me too.

Things will be rolling right along and then my laptop will ping with an "update" reminder to choose a new password. Which would be ok if every other entity in my life didn't require a similar adjustment.

Accessing email, paying bills, even reserving a book at the library requires a password. Which means every few months I must create a new combination of letters, numbers, and symbols that are both memorable and opaque. It's like trying to solve a crossword puzzle using invisible ink.

Perhaps this obsession with security has kept my personal details protected. But I fear the only person who can't figure out my passwords is me!

"Treat your password like a toothbrush. Don't let anyone else use it and get a new one every six months." – Clifford Still

With this weekend's completion of the Belmont Stakes, the 2021 Triple Crown circuit officially has come to a close.

As a girl, I had very few opportunities to saddle a horse. The local YMCA program allowed kids to ride in a big circle within the safe and cozy confines of a small wooden corral. I had a chance to ride during my time in Montana, a more freewheeling experience that involved neither reins nor stirrups. In retrospect, likely not the best idea.

But in recent years I have had two opportunities to ride with proper equipment and a guide. The first was an easy ramble across the desert landscape south of Tucson. And the second, a jaunt that traced the progression of the battle of Gettysburg. To ride across those fields, just as the soldiers of the Civil War did, was both remarkable and moving.

"We have almost forgotten how strange a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon its back." – Peter Gray

As if there weren't enough reasons to love Fridays already, today is (drum roll please......)

NATIONAL DONUT DAY!

At least according to Krispy Kreme and Dunkin' (or "Dunks" as we call it in Boston).

Originally this holiday was designed as a way to honor the "donut lassies," women who helped men serving on the front lines in France during WWI. In addition to dispensing writing supplies and stamps, these volunteers cooked homemade meals for the troops. They soon discovered the soldiers' shallow metal helmets could be used to fry donuts. Necessity, it appears, is truly the mother of invention.

"Donuts. Is there anything they can’t do?" – Matt Groening

A few days ago author Roxanne Gay tweeted about the long line that had formed at the entrance to something called "The Friends Experience."

Located at the intersection of 23rd and Lex, this NYC interactive experience lets fans of the popular 90's sitcom enjoy a behind the scenes glimpse of their favorite show. Ticket holders can wander through former sets, filled with props and costumes used by Chandler, Joey, Monica, Phoebe, and of course, Ross and Rachel.

Friends debuted in September of 1994 and aired for ten seasons. But I have been watching far longer than that. Late night re-runs have kept me amused through years of periodic insomnia. So much so that I now know much of the dialogue by heart.

Still Friends after all these years.....

"PIVOT!" – Ross

"How you doin?" – Joey

"See, he's her lobster." – Phoebe

"And I have to live with a boy!" – Monica

"Okay, you have to stop the Q-Tip when there's resistance." – Chandler

"It's not that common, it doesn't happen to every guy, and it IS a big deal!" – Rachel

But perhaps the most memorable of all....

"Oh. My. God." – Janice

In 1981 I was living in London. During an extended school break, a friend and I decided to wander around Europe for a month. We dusted off our backpacks, bought Eurail passes, and prepared to headed out.

But just as we were about to leave, we realized our trip would mean missing another friend's birthday. She had planned a separate European vacation. So at the last minute, we concocted a scheme to briefly blend our itineraries, agreeing to meet at 3:00 p.m. on April 9th (her birthday), in front of the Louvre's most famous painting – the Mona Lisa.

It was the first and only time I have stood before this enduring work of art. Yesterday, I read for the first and only time since its 1793 inception, a woman will now head the Louvre.

Another reason for Mona Lisa to smile.

"The Mona Lisa, to me, is the greatest emotional painting ever done. The way the smile flickers makes it a work of both art and science, because Leonardo understood optics, and the muscles of the lips, and how light strikes the eye - all of it goes into making Mona Lisa's smile mysterious and elusive." – Walter Isaacson

Screwed into the frame of the front door of my childhood home was a battered old flagpole bracket. Memorial Day was one of the many days my father would slide our American flag into place, on display from dawn to dusk.

The flag was an object that inspired a deep reverence in my family, derived in large part from my father's service as a career military officer, WWII combat veteran, and recipient of the Purple Heart. He knew countless soldiers who lost their lives in battle. Many more whose injuries, both physical and emotional, would haunt them for the remainder of their lives.

As we honor the dead, we remember not just their sacrifice, but the patriotic conviction that put them in harms way.

"A thoughtful mind, when it sees a nation's flag, sees not the flag, but the nation itself." – Henry Ward Beecher

Next month LEGO will debut a new 346-piece collection called "Everyone is Awesome." This set will include bricks in every color of the rainbow, a celebration of the inclusivity represented in June's annual observance of PRIDE.

There was nothing that would make my parents howl like stepping on a stray LEGO. After a morning of construction and demolition, my brother and I soon learned not to leave our LEGOS on the floor.

Otherwise, this was among my parents' favorite toys, purchased both to amuse and educate their rambunctious children. And while I too loved the endless combinations a LEGO set presented, it makes my heart swell to know this newest iteration fetes every child so unabashedly.

Bring on the rainbow colors. Let's build our world anew.

"LEGO has essentially taken the concrete block, the building block of the world, and made it into the building block of our imagination." – Avah Bdetr

With only a few weeks left before this academic year comes to a close, I can feel the vibe on campus begin to shift.

This is part of the circular ebb and flow of life within an academic institution. Kept on task by an invisible institutional metronome, every September tumbles toward June at a reassuring clip. Each term has its own distinctive feel. And each year, the process begins anew.

But this year, a collective exhaustion seems to have seeped into our bones. Sure, "prom-posals" still bring cheers from nearby onlookers. Seniors proudly don their new college swag. Final art projects are now on display. But the toll of the pandemic remains beneath our weary end-of-year smiles. 2020-21 has been a haul.

Among the many lessons learned during this unusual year, the critical role of tending to one's mental health may be among the most important....

“What mental health needs is more sunlight, more candor, and more unashamed conversation.” – Glenn Close

Anyone who has known me more than five minutes knows I love to walk. That said, I am more of a sand piper and less of a mountain goat. Skittering atop a long flat surface is my preferred landscape. I'll leave the hills for my more disciplined peers. I am happy to stroll.

On occasion, I have deviated from type. I remember climbing the tight and winding staircase that was built inside the interior of the Statue of Liberty's raised arm, back before the NPS shut down such opportunities. Twice I hiked the steep steps of the Pyramid of the Sun, located outside Mexico City. The second time the weather was so hot my face looked like a giant tomato by the end of the ascent, bright red from both sun and exertion. Numerous times I have found myself clinging to nearby scrub pines in an attempt to conquer some granite-topped dome in my native New England, much to the chagrin of my aching knees.

Frequent mountaineers claim the expansive views make climbing worth the effort. Perhaps. But maybe, just maybe, meandering along the ocean's edge can suffice.

"You never climb a mountain by accident -- it has to be intentional." – Mark Udall

For a bibliophile like me, you may be surprised by one of my "go to" books.

Roadside America.

A collection of zany, kitschy, one-of-a-kind attractions, this is a must have for any traveler. Stuffed into its voluminous pages are both the ridiculous and the sublime. Want to know where the nearest matzo factory is? Roadside has it covered. Musing on the location of the biggest ketchup bottle? The coordinates are just a page turn away. Looking for a statue of Paul Bunyan, dying to see the Corn Cob Palace, have a secret interest in taxidermy or haunted houses? It's in there.

Sorted by state, town, and a five-point rating scale labeled "Worth a Detour," Roadside America is the gift that keeps on giving.

"Stories worth sharing rarely begin with 'So...we decided to stay in.'"

I'm no MacGyver but I do have a penchant for duct tape.

For the most part, I relegate this stiff band of adhesive to the most onerous of patch jobs. Reliable and herculean in strength, duct tape is the jack of all trades when it comes to bonding.

So imagine my surprise when a friend told me I should use it to avoid getting blisters on my feet. You read that right. She instructed me to cover my heels and the edge of my big toe with duct tape before heading out for a long hike. "But how am I going to get it off?" I queried. "Won't it rip my skin when I remove it?" She smiled and said "Just do it. It works."

Right she was. After a long walk the tape peeled away easily, loosened but not detached by sweat. The skin, protected from friction, never blistered.

Hikers are a resourceful bunch......

"I don't believe in a lot of things, but I do believe in duct tape." – Miles Straume

Is there anything worse than shopping for a bathing suit? Not for me.

The regimen of taking off all your clothes, just to stand in front of a three-way mirror, all for the pleasure of trying to squeeze a middle-aged body into a swath of spandex-like material? Please no.

But here's the thing. That same mirror, the one that provides an impartial, exacting assessment of all of my physical flaws, is later replaced by magical and forgiving pools of water. Once submerged, I am weightless and buoyant, unencumbered by the very body that brought me to the water's edge.

Making peace with one's body, for some of us, takes a lifetime. Luckily for me, the older I get, the more grateful I've become.

"My bathing suit told me to go to the gym but my sweatpants were like, 'nah girl, you're good.'"